The other day Samantha Norman asked me, "How do you choose the songs for worship?" The question surprised me, and I didn't immediately have an answer, so I said something about flipping pages with my eyes closed and stopping randomly. Renee, her mother, chimed in something about Itunes party shuffle, so I said, "Yeah I use party shuffle. The only problem is that sometimes I end up with a Beatles song in the mix." Samantha's sister Sydney jumped in with, "Like 'Hey Jude.'" That was particularly funny, because we had all just heard a sermon on Judas. I still chuckle.
The real answer didn't come to me, because frankly it's not something I do alone. Granted, there are times when I'm either tired or not where I need to be spiritually, and I just pick songs I like. But most of the time, choosing worship music involves a powerful experience with God. This week is no different. Let me share something that happens to me regularly.
Yesterday as I drove to church, the song, "The Power of Your Love" was on the radio. We know it well, and I was singing along.
Hold me close, let Your love surround me; Bring me near, draw me to Your side. And as I wait, I'll rise up like the eagle, And I will soar with You, Your Spirit leads me on in the pow'r of Your love.
As I sang the chorus, another melody came to mind, and I heard the words:
Take me, mold me, use me, fill me; I give my life to the Potter's hand. Mold me, guide me, lead me, walk beside me; I give my life to the Potter's hand.
Realizing it would make a great medley, I checked my arrangements when I arrived at church. Sure enough, they are in the same key, and I excitedly wrote myself a note. This morning as I began to prepare, I pulled those songs first. I use several references which give me scripture backgrounds and even suggest medleys, so it was easy to find a couple of other songs. "Your Love, Oh Lord" leads into "The Power of Your Love", and "Have Thine Own Way" is the obvious Invitation song.
I then picked up "Did You Feel the Mountains Tremble". I've been wanting to use it for several weeks, but it never seemed to fit just right. Thinking it would be a good opener, I began looking for a companion to pair it with. First I went to the Worship Leader resource and found the scripture background from Isaiah 64:1.
If only You would tear the heavens open and come down, so that the mountains would quake at Your presence.
Feeling led to the hymns, I then went to my hymn/scripture reference guide and checked two hymnals I most often use. I was dissapointed to find no reference to that scripture, but was intrigued to see verse 8 of that chapter in both. Curious, I looked and was awestruck once again:
Lord, You are our Father; We are the clay, and You are our potter; We all are the work of Your hands.
There is no such thing as coincidence. Only the One True God could guide and confirm like that. I am no longer surprised by the way He works in this, but I am always amazed. Another thing about all this is that Todd and I rarely discuss what he plans to preach. The only time I have any idea is during a series. That's why I'm continually amazed when the singing and the sermon fit like a hand in a glove. People think we coordinate it all, but the fact is that we don't have anything to do with it. God really can bring obedient people from different directions to arrive at the same place.
We're opening worship Sunday with "Heaven came down and glory filled my soul!"
SOLI DEO GLORIA!!!!
Friday, March 20, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Sign #1...
I was born at an early age. (My dad likes to say that.) From the first day, I was in church. I grew up hearing the preaching, singing and story telling about Jesus. I heard about how He was born of a virgin in a humble place. I heard about how He lived a perfect, sinless life. I heard about how He was crucified, buried and rose again. I even heard about how He wanted me to be part of His family, the church. It was comfortable, and I felt I belonged. In my mind, it was only a matter of time before I joined the church.
In our churches, at the end of each service, we include what we call the "Invitation". Simply put, it's an invitation for anyone to openly respond to whatever God is doing in their lives at that moment. While we all sing an appropriate song, people voluntarily make their way to the front of the room where they can either pray, receive counsel, join the church or profess their new found faith in Jesus Christ. No one is required to speak. Rather the Pastor shares with the congregation for them while they stand next to Him in full view of everyone.
By the age of 9 or 10, I knew I needed to join the church. But there was just one problem. I was horribly timid. The idea of standing in full view of the congregation was a terrifying thought. I know what you're thinking. If you know me at all, you're probably saying, "Jeff? Timid??" The truth is, "Yes. The real Jeff is a scared little boy." The person you know is the one God has transformed and enabled, but we'll get to that in a minute.
I've always struggled with the fear of being seen. Some people I know love the spotlight. I love the shadows. Oh, I do fine in small groups or even in larger groups where I know most of the people well. In those settings, there is a level of control, and I can be secure in the box I've built for myself. But the idea of being the center of attention anywhere still gives me the shivers and makes me slip to the back of the crowd.
In church, as the invitation approached, anxiety would begin to grow. "People want me to join. It's the right thing to do.'' Those were the thoughts in my head. As the song began, I would try to talk myself into it. "Go down on the second verse," I would say to myself. When the second verse began I would think, "OK, on the next verse." Sooner or later, the song would end, and I would be off the hook. That's how it went week after week.
When I was 13, my father, a former Minister of Music and then High School Choral Director was asked to lead worship in a revival at a church near our home. Mama and I went with him every night enjoying the pre-service meal served to the choir and Evangelist. Oddly, I've always been at ease with adults and immediately struck up a friendship with the Pastor of the church, Hershel Sizemore. We had good conversations each night, and by Thursday, trust had developed in me. That night, he asked if we could talk privately. We went into the sanctuary, and he sat sideways in the pew in front of me. I don't remember a word he said. What I do remember is that Jesus was presented to me in a personal way.
What had only been head knowledge was transformed into something personal. For the first time, someone told ME what I needed. It wasn't about joining a group. It wasn't about what was expected of me. It wasn't about me and everyone else in the room. It was about me and God. It was about what Jesus did for me and my need for Him.
As we entered the time of Invitation that night, the same old anxiety began to build. I told myself, "I'll go down on the second verse." But a strange thing happened. As we began to sing, a wave of peace passed over me. I watched as an observer as I closed the hymnal, put it away and stepped out into the aisle. God had given me a gentle nudge. He had suddenly brought everything into focus, and I saw the big neon sign. It was easy. Daddy reminded me several years ago of the song we sang that night. "I Surrender All." That's what I did that night. It was simple and childlike. It was unquestioning trust. I surrendered control.
Over the following months and years, God has showed me the reality of sin in my life. He's showed me who He is. He's showed me why Jesus chose to die for me. He's showed me how much He loves me. He is still showing me these things. And I've learned to trust Him... to love Him back... to surrender all. He changed me. He enabled me to do things I never dreamed I could. I learned to live Philippians 4:13, "I am able to do all things through Him who strengthens me." He taught me to take my eyes off "I am able" and to focus on "through Him who strengthens me." Sometimes I give in to that scared little boy, take control and build my little box. That's when He gently nudges me again, points to the big neon sign and says, "Trust Me." Then I take His outstretched hand and we continue down the path together.
In our churches, at the end of each service, we include what we call the "Invitation". Simply put, it's an invitation for anyone to openly respond to whatever God is doing in their lives at that moment. While we all sing an appropriate song, people voluntarily make their way to the front of the room where they can either pray, receive counsel, join the church or profess their new found faith in Jesus Christ. No one is required to speak. Rather the Pastor shares with the congregation for them while they stand next to Him in full view of everyone.
By the age of 9 or 10, I knew I needed to join the church. But there was just one problem. I was horribly timid. The idea of standing in full view of the congregation was a terrifying thought. I know what you're thinking. If you know me at all, you're probably saying, "Jeff? Timid??" The truth is, "Yes. The real Jeff is a scared little boy." The person you know is the one God has transformed and enabled, but we'll get to that in a minute.
I've always struggled with the fear of being seen. Some people I know love the spotlight. I love the shadows. Oh, I do fine in small groups or even in larger groups where I know most of the people well. In those settings, there is a level of control, and I can be secure in the box I've built for myself. But the idea of being the center of attention anywhere still gives me the shivers and makes me slip to the back of the crowd.
In church, as the invitation approached, anxiety would begin to grow. "People want me to join. It's the right thing to do.'' Those were the thoughts in my head. As the song began, I would try to talk myself into it. "Go down on the second verse," I would say to myself. When the second verse began I would think, "OK, on the next verse." Sooner or later, the song would end, and I would be off the hook. That's how it went week after week.
When I was 13, my father, a former Minister of Music and then High School Choral Director was asked to lead worship in a revival at a church near our home. Mama and I went with him every night enjoying the pre-service meal served to the choir and Evangelist. Oddly, I've always been at ease with adults and immediately struck up a friendship with the Pastor of the church, Hershel Sizemore. We had good conversations each night, and by Thursday, trust had developed in me. That night, he asked if we could talk privately. We went into the sanctuary, and he sat sideways in the pew in front of me. I don't remember a word he said. What I do remember is that Jesus was presented to me in a personal way.
What had only been head knowledge was transformed into something personal. For the first time, someone told ME what I needed. It wasn't about joining a group. It wasn't about what was expected of me. It wasn't about me and everyone else in the room. It was about me and God. It was about what Jesus did for me and my need for Him.
As we entered the time of Invitation that night, the same old anxiety began to build. I told myself, "I'll go down on the second verse." But a strange thing happened. As we began to sing, a wave of peace passed over me. I watched as an observer as I closed the hymnal, put it away and stepped out into the aisle. God had given me a gentle nudge. He had suddenly brought everything into focus, and I saw the big neon sign. It was easy. Daddy reminded me several years ago of the song we sang that night. "I Surrender All." That's what I did that night. It was simple and childlike. It was unquestioning trust. I surrendered control.
Over the following months and years, God has showed me the reality of sin in my life. He's showed me who He is. He's showed me why Jesus chose to die for me. He's showed me how much He loves me. He is still showing me these things. And I've learned to trust Him... to love Him back... to surrender all. He changed me. He enabled me to do things I never dreamed I could. I learned to live Philippians 4:13, "I am able to do all things through Him who strengthens me." He taught me to take my eyes off "I am able" and to focus on "through Him who strengthens me." Sometimes I give in to that scared little boy, take control and build my little box. That's when He gently nudges me again, points to the big neon sign and says, "Trust Me." Then I take His outstretched hand and we continue down the path together.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Signs...
Decisions can be agonizing at times. Sometimes it's due to my own lack of attention to God's guidance. He coaxes and directs, but I fail to hear and see, my focus being elsewhere. Other times His silence about a particular subject is direction enough. But I'm not satisfied with unanswered questions, so I continue to struggle in my heart. This is unfortunate, "for God is not a God of confusion but of peace..." (1 Corinthians 14:33). He desires peace for me, especially when I come to a fork in the road.
I remember Gideon and the fleece (Judges 6:36-40). He was looking for a clear sign from God, but when God sent it, Gideon was still uncertain. His own fear stood between him and clarity. He asked God to confirm the message, and God gently, patiently did so.
Someone recently shared with me that he is sometimes so confused that he simply asks God to close all the wrong doors. He went on to say, "I guess that's immature." I said, "No! That's a very mature way to approach decisions." In Mark 10, Jesus speaks of childlike faith. He's not implying blind action. Rather He's referring to confidence in something that's trustworthy...like a child instinctively trusts his parents.
As we age and learn, we take control and use our own "intelligence." It's only with spiritual maturity that we return to childlike faith, understanding the frailty of our wisdom compared to His. God wants us to trust Him that way.
Whether it's a fork in the road or a desire for something new, I really want signs to give me direction. Many times I have prayed for a big neon sign from God. A few times He has cleared the fog of my own making to give me an undeniable message. Actually, I can count 4 times in my life that He has given me a big neon sign. During the next few entries, I'll share with you those special moments in my life.
I remember Gideon and the fleece (Judges 6:36-40). He was looking for a clear sign from God, but when God sent it, Gideon was still uncertain. His own fear stood between him and clarity. He asked God to confirm the message, and God gently, patiently did so.
Someone recently shared with me that he is sometimes so confused that he simply asks God to close all the wrong doors. He went on to say, "I guess that's immature." I said, "No! That's a very mature way to approach decisions." In Mark 10, Jesus speaks of childlike faith. He's not implying blind action. Rather He's referring to confidence in something that's trustworthy...like a child instinctively trusts his parents.
As we age and learn, we take control and use our own "intelligence." It's only with spiritual maturity that we return to childlike faith, understanding the frailty of our wisdom compared to His. God wants us to trust Him that way.
Whether it's a fork in the road or a desire for something new, I really want signs to give me direction. Many times I have prayed for a big neon sign from God. A few times He has cleared the fog of my own making to give me an undeniable message. Actually, I can count 4 times in my life that He has given me a big neon sign. During the next few entries, I'll share with you those special moments in my life.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Waves...
Several years ago I went deep sea fishing in North Carolina. I had never been out in the ocean away from land, and I was excited and eager. Catching fish was secondary to me. I was looking forward to seeing the world from a different perspective. But the idea of being the big bad fisherman with a couple of full stringers was also appealing. I took my motion sickness pill and we started out just before sunrise. The boat held about 40 people, and they were all lined up along the rails. So, I found a nice spot on the upper deck with a good view. It was glorious. Cutting through the water and feeling the mist in my face as the spray came over the boat. It was a clear day and you could see for miles. "This is going to be a great day," I thought.
We got the signal and everyone grabbed gear and found a spot at the rail. Then the boat stopped, and the lines went into the water. That's when it hit me. Amid the ocean waves, I was suddenly hit with waves of nausea. I've battled motion sickness, but this was like none I had ever had. While the boat was moving, I was fine. Stationary, the boat rocked in every direction imaginable. Left...right...forward...back...up...down.... All at the same time. They had a bathroom on the boat. It was about half the size of a phone booth. And it was worse in there. The motion was the same, accept you couldn't see out. I turned in my gear and spent the next 9 hours flat on my back in the galley.
At the end of the day, we started home and my symptoms immediately went away. Emerging from the galley, I was relieved to feel the breeze and only one direction of motion. One of my friends told me the captain had asked for me, so I climbed up to the pilot house and knocked on the door. I had a moment of envy when I entered the air conditioned room and saw the bunk in the corner, but then I realized the top of the boat moved worse than where I had been.
The captain asked how I was doing and then said, "Would you like to drive?" I said, "Sure!" I took the wheel and he pointed to our destination. A tiny point off in the distance. I was determined to show impress the old seafarer, so I squinted and aimed and held the boat straight. It was more difficult than I had imagined. The waves were not that high, but with their rolling, the boat wanted to go this way and that. But I held it firm.
After a few minutes, the captain said, "You're doing well, but it can be a rough ride. It's easier on the passengers if you allow the boat to follow the swells and just keep a general heading. Bowing to his wisdom I complied and began to only make occasional corrections. The ride improved dramatically. I learned something that day. Strictly following a straight course is not the smoothest ride. Allowing the waves to direct your path is the best way to get where you're going...if you're a boat.
Life is not a boat. Yes, in life we encounter waves. They buffet and push, trying to move us this way and that. Social influences, temptations, even culture and tradition attempt to impose their will on our lives. The straight path is often rough, and many people choose the easy route, but at what cost. Following the trends of this world, they exchange God's best for shiny things that do not last.
God says in Proverbs 16:25, "There is a way that seems right to a man, but in the end it is the way of death."
Jesus said in Matthew 7:13-17, "Enter through the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the road is broad that leads to destruction, and there are many who go through it. How narrow is the gate and difficult the road that leads to life, and few find it. Beware of false prophets who come to you in sheep's clothing but inwardly are ravaging wolves. You'll recognize them by their fruit. Are grapes gathered from thornbushes or figs from thistles? In the same way, every good tree produces good fruit, but a bad tree produces bad fruit."
Allowing a boat to go it's own way makes for a smoother ride. But by doing so, it is easy to lose sight of the goal. The goal of my life should be to please my Father. I will encounter waves of influence, and the ride will be rough. But keeping my eyes on the goal and my path straight will bring a greater reward than any fleeting thing this world has to offer.
Ephesians 4:14-15 "Then we will no longer be little children, tossed by the waves and blown around by every wind of teaching, by human cunning with cleverness in the techniques of deceit. But speaking the truth in love, let us grow in every way into Him who is the head —Christ."
We got the signal and everyone grabbed gear and found a spot at the rail. Then the boat stopped, and the lines went into the water. That's when it hit me. Amid the ocean waves, I was suddenly hit with waves of nausea. I've battled motion sickness, but this was like none I had ever had. While the boat was moving, I was fine. Stationary, the boat rocked in every direction imaginable. Left...right...forward...back...up...down.... All at the same time. They had a bathroom on the boat. It was about half the size of a phone booth. And it was worse in there. The motion was the same, accept you couldn't see out. I turned in my gear and spent the next 9 hours flat on my back in the galley.
At the end of the day, we started home and my symptoms immediately went away. Emerging from the galley, I was relieved to feel the breeze and only one direction of motion. One of my friends told me the captain had asked for me, so I climbed up to the pilot house and knocked on the door. I had a moment of envy when I entered the air conditioned room and saw the bunk in the corner, but then I realized the top of the boat moved worse than where I had been.
The captain asked how I was doing and then said, "Would you like to drive?" I said, "Sure!" I took the wheel and he pointed to our destination. A tiny point off in the distance. I was determined to show impress the old seafarer, so I squinted and aimed and held the boat straight. It was more difficult than I had imagined. The waves were not that high, but with their rolling, the boat wanted to go this way and that. But I held it firm.
After a few minutes, the captain said, "You're doing well, but it can be a rough ride. It's easier on the passengers if you allow the boat to follow the swells and just keep a general heading. Bowing to his wisdom I complied and began to only make occasional corrections. The ride improved dramatically. I learned something that day. Strictly following a straight course is not the smoothest ride. Allowing the waves to direct your path is the best way to get where you're going...if you're a boat.
Life is not a boat. Yes, in life we encounter waves. They buffet and push, trying to move us this way and that. Social influences, temptations, even culture and tradition attempt to impose their will on our lives. The straight path is often rough, and many people choose the easy route, but at what cost. Following the trends of this world, they exchange God's best for shiny things that do not last.
God says in Proverbs 16:25, "There is a way that seems right to a man, but in the end it is the way of death."
Jesus said in Matthew 7:13-17, "Enter through the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the road is broad that leads to destruction, and there are many who go through it. How narrow is the gate and difficult the road that leads to life, and few find it. Beware of false prophets who come to you in sheep's clothing but inwardly are ravaging wolves. You'll recognize them by their fruit. Are grapes gathered from thornbushes or figs from thistles? In the same way, every good tree produces good fruit, but a bad tree produces bad fruit."
Allowing a boat to go it's own way makes for a smoother ride. But by doing so, it is easy to lose sight of the goal. The goal of my life should be to please my Father. I will encounter waves of influence, and the ride will be rough. But keeping my eyes on the goal and my path straight will bring a greater reward than any fleeting thing this world has to offer.
Ephesians 4:14-15 "Then we will no longer be little children, tossed by the waves and blown around by every wind of teaching, by human cunning with cleverness in the techniques of deceit. But speaking the truth in love, let us grow in every way into Him who is the head —Christ."
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